The dog gets up to all sorts while we're out.  On a Sunday morning, while Mr. and Mini-pear are off at karate, she frequently forgets I'm home.  I'll be laying in bed reading and hear the distinct sound of the kitchen bin being opened.  Once I walked into the kitchen to find her standing on top of the table, licking the crumbs off a bread board!  She was, quite literally, paralyzed with fear when she saw me.

Such a bad dog.  Very occasionally, she will chew a toy.  I know better than to leave any knitting about.  She can't resist it.  Knows it's wrong!  Hangs her head in shame and cowers in her crate!  More often, she just moves things.  I will return to find my hat in the middle of the bedroom floor, when I know I left it on my desk chair in the living room.  Mini-pear, in an effort to declutter her own room, has arranged a wee assortment of stuffed animals next to my bed.  These often end up on the rug in the front hall, slightly damp and disheveled.  I suppose we should be glad she does not remove the eyes of stuffed animals with surgical precision and leave a pile of those at the front door.  I had a friend whose dog did precisely that.  I know you're not supposed to hold eye contact with strange dogs, but I found it difficult to even look at it, knowing its particular predilection for optical dismemberment.

Here is Tanky, sunning herself on our picnic table.   Right after taking this picture, I crept up to the screen door, "Just what do you think you're doing?"  To which she yawned and stretched before finding another sunny position on the very same table top.  Becoming brazen in her old age.

Comments

[marsie]

Well, now you know where you stand in the pecking order of the family!!